


Serendipity

by GrungeWitch



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove & Eleven | Jane Hopper Friendship, Billy Hargrove Being Less of an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Lives, Brotherly Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Confused Steve Harrington, Dustin is going to kick Steve's ass, Experiment Billy Hargrove, Fluff and Angst, Gay Billy Hargrove, M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Dustin Henderson, Rating May Change, Steve Harrington Has a Bad Time, Steve Harrington Is a Mess, Stranger Things 3, robin is a know it all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrungeWitch/pseuds/GrungeWitch
Summary: "This is fun" Billy commented idly, leaning on his shovel.Steve's head popped out the six-foot hole, hair caked in dirt. "Shut up. Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me. We're trying to hide a body right now what part of that is fun?""Permission to answer?""Denied.""Overruled. It's fun cause it's with you pretty boy""We're trying to hide a body Hargrove for crying out loud-"





	Serendipity

Fate was a bitch.

A downright inequitable bitch.

It had to be playing some kind of sick trick on them, laughing right in their faces at the twisted knot that is their lives. All they could do was laugh right back at it, otherwise, they'd be showing that any light of happiness in their lives was being extinguished like the bud of a cigarette being stomped on by a boot; Fate being the owner of the boot. So, they laughed back, straining their smiles more and more with each passing year.

But Steve? Steve was good at smiling. He was good at flashing fate his award-winning smile that had scored him countless girls in high school, a smile that had never once failed him. A smile that told his parents 'yeah, of course, I don't mind' when they left for months on end. A smile that said, 'fuck you fate.' What did the smile win him with fate? Several black eyes, a town to save and far too many kids to babysit.

So, when he saw Max crying over Billy's limp body and El standing all alone crying when Hopper didn't return, he flicked a switch inside himself. Steve decided that quite frankly, he didn't care what fate or destiny did to him, but it wasn't allowed to lay another finger on these kids or so help him he's suing for emotional damage.

But if he had the option to be in charge of manifesting his own fate or destiny, he definitely would have edited several things to be different. At least four of those things most definitely would begin with Billy Hargrove.

* * *

"Steve, can you lock up?" Robin had asked him and honestly, he should have argued with her in hindsight.

Lock up was his least favourite job when it came to working here in the video store. Even if he didn't know half of the movies in this store, even if he couldn't work the receipt machine quarter the time, even if all of the customers pretty much only came in here to ogle at him, his least favourite part of the job was locking up. Because nobody else was around. There was nobody to draw his attention away from the looming shadows or the flickering lamp post outside the glass doors that looked like it had been ripped straight from a horror movie. Steve's life _felt_ like a horror movie.

But he figured if anything bad was going to happen at night time he would rather it happened to him than to Robin. At the end of the day, he had a bat to protect himself stored safely under the passenger seat of his car, just as it had been since summer ended. It was almost embarrassing that he never left the house anymore without it, the instinctual need for some kind of protection overruling any logical train of thought that argued now Hopper wasn't in the force he might get in trouble for carrying around a bat with nails hammered into it. Oh well, it put his mind at ease.

Nothing bad had happened for months. Nothing had jumped out of the shadows or appeared under that lamp post. But the shadows and the lamp post still made his hair stand on edge every time he looked at them. There was one time where he'd been so certain that he'd seen something move past his car that he'd refused to leave the store for another hour, crouching behind the counter in the dark and just _staring_ into Patrick Swayze's eyes on the back of a Dirty Dancing poster to calm his rattled nerves. Eventually, he managed to convince himself it had been a cat, sending him tumbling into another pit of embarrassment for being such a baby.

After the battle in Starcourt he'd been left in a pretty battered shape, black eye, maybe a broken rib, but that had all healed now after the three months that had passed. Everybody had fallen back into their routines, same as what happened last year when a monster attacked. They all moved on. The physical scars healed. The emotional ones? They stayed.

The battle was what created this whole irrational fear of his when it came to locking up. No, he wasn't going to admit the real fear lay with the dark, because he wasn't a child who was afraid of things that go bump in the night. Absolutely not.

So, he'd secure the cash register, turn of the lights, lock the doors and draw down the shutters. No problem. Then he'd clamber into his car and head on home, feeling accomplished that he hadn't screamed at the faintest noise. Normally by the time he was home he was laughing at himself for being so ridiculous. 

Today was different.

He drove home a little faster than he legally should be, pressing down on the gas while tapping his finger against the wheel to match the tune of 'Mad World', the music drifting from his radio. Usually, he felt quite safe in his car. Stick on some music and ignore everything else. On the way to his house, he had to pass through a road that was essentially tunneled by trees on either side of it, forestry that stretched on for miles. That was the second fear of his, the forest. He knew exactly what could come out of those trees with some first-hand experience to back him up. The forest seemed to stare at him, and he had to swallow thickly to ignore the thought that there were eyes watching him.

Robin would laugh. She would obviously laugh at him being scared of the woods. It wasn't the woods he was scared of; it was what could come out of the woods.

Never had this fear actually come true whilst he'd been alone.

The headlights were the only thing that alerted him that something ran out into the road ahead of him. It was the only warning he got. His mind had immediately thought it was a deer because that seemed pretty common and reasonable to assume; so, he slammed his foot down on the breaks forcing the tires screech at the sudden command to stop. The shadow that had run into the road froze, staring at the car approaching. The car jerked to a stop barely in time, bumping into the figure so that they toppled over the bonnet at the impact but probably didn't get injured.

Steve sat wide-eyed in his seat, not even breathing as he stared out the front window at whoever was hunched over his bonnet. They didn't seem in pain, they just seemed surprised. And they definitely didn't look like a friggen deer. That was a person, a fully grown person he'd just hit. The persistent music from his radio dancing over the hum of the engine was the only thing reminding him that time hadn't frozen. Tears For Fears 'Mad World' ended and the song on the radio abruptly changed in tone.

'_If you see a faded sign by the side of the road that says_

_Fifteen miles to the, love shack, love shack yeah-'_

The figure let out a groan, pushing on the bonnet up with their palms so Steve got a good view of their face, and they got a good view of Steve's.

Both faces dropped instantly.

This is exactly why Steve was convinced destiny or fate or whatever had some kind of worked up agenda against him. Because that couldn't possibly be Billy Fucking Hargrove doubled over the bonnet of his car staring at him with the intensity of ten thousand burning suns. He'd watched Billy die?! It simply wasn't plausible to accept that he'd just apparently hit Billy with his car. Not possible. He's finally cracked. This was what insanity felt like. In fact, part of him was kind of convinced that he'd actually crashed the car and died, and this was his own personal hell.

'_I got me a car, it's as big as a whale and we're headin' on down to the love shack-'_

Billy only took a few seconds to kick back into action, rolling off the bonnet and racing around to the passenger side, but Steve was quicker, flicking the locks on immediately. That didn't go down that well, Billy began to knock frantically on the window, gesturing furiously to the door handle that he was trying to yank the car door open with.

"Harrington? Just my luck…Open the fuck up! Come on, man!" he yelled; voice muffled by the shut windows.

"H-Hargrove?" he said in confusion, realising Billy couldn't hear him and opening the window by a fraction. "Hargrove? What?" he said again a bit louder, the only word his brain was chucking at him was _zombie_ which honestly wasn't even beyond the realm of what he thought was possible.

Billy continued rapping his knuckles against the window "Open this door right now- they're coming I need to get out of here-"

"Who's…?" he furrowed his eyebrows trying to comprehend the situation. "You're dead?!"

"Do I look fucking dead to you? For the last time open the door."

Billy didn't look dead. He looked… pretty healthy actually. The only weird part was that he was dressed in a white hospital gown that was so opposite the man's usual fashion it was almost offensive. His hair wasn't styled either, it's usual shining, tight curls had wilted into greasy strands that clung to his head.

"Oh, well sorry but last I checked you _were_ dead and before that, you were possessed. So, you'll have to excuse me for taking a minute to process this." Steve snapped back, gesturing with one hand between them both having gathered his wits after the initial shock. "How do I even know you're _you_?"

"What?" Billy shot back, scowling so tightly it looked like he'd eaten a lemon.

"Do I have to spell it out? You tried to kill like… everybody like three months ago. How do I even know this is you right now?" He exclaimed, tempted to drive off and leave whatever _this_ was right here on the road. His bed seemed mighty attractive right now in comparison.

"_Harrington."_

"I'm not opening the door!" He yelled back, not having realised he'd pressed himself firmly against the opposite door to Billy. "Prove your _you_ then maybe we'll talk. You're supposed to be dead."

"Proof?" Billy parroted in utter disbelief, glancing to the trees briefly then back at him. "Fine, I'll give you your proof pretty boy. Your names Steve Harrington, you can't plant your feet for shit, and you dressed as Risky Biz for the Halloween party. Now. Open. Up." He said, hitting the glass in time with the last three words.

Well, sure as hell couldn't make that up.

"You better not kill me," Steve growled in defeat. "How do I know you're not going to kill me if I open the door?"

The head of blonde curls dipped downwards to the ground, mumbling something incoherent Steve couldn't hear before rising to glare at him again, desperation materialising. That was new. Billy had never looked desperate in front of him before.

"You don't understand- I- I can explain I just need to get out of here. Open the door. Here's not safe. Please." Billy was pleading at this point, fixing him with such a fear-stricken expression that Steve found his hand wandering towards the button that would unlock the doors.

Before he could hit it, something the size of a damn tank crashed into Billy, tackling him sideways onto the concrete road. Steve blinked at the suddenly empty space outside his window, hearing a struggle happening outside his car, then watching a man ten times either of their sizes lift Billy to slam him against the car door, making the vehicle shake violently. The newcomer didn't even acknowledge Steve, too busy pummelling Billy who in fairness was putting up a valiant effort to fight back.

It didn't take Steve long to grab his bat from under the seat and unlock the doors, fumbling to get his seat belt off then jumping out the car to race over and help. As he rounded the vehicle, he saw the man straddling Billy, sending punches to his face. The picture reminded him of when Billy had been straddling him and punching him at the Byers house. He even still had a scar on his temple from that night as a souvenir.

That not so gentle reminder didn't stop him from charging over and holding his bat up threateningly, "Get off him!"

The man's head whipped in his direction. "Ostav' i ya pozvolyu tebe zhit" 

Russians.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Steve's eyes darted to the holstered gun that the man's fingers were itching towards, the other hand holding down Billy who was sporting a bloodied nose. Well… if there was no chance of bargaining here…

'_Love Shack, baby-'_

A strangled yell came from his throat that mixed with the oddly uplifting music as he charged forwards, slamming the bat into the man's side and knocking him off Billy. The nails in his bat dug into the man's flesh, making Steve inwardly cringe. The man hissed, rolling away from them then jumping to his feet and gestured to Billy.

"YA tol'ko khochu yego" He said while clutching his side.

Billy was on his feet now as well, spitting blood to the floor. "We don't understand you, asshole" he snarled before running at the man and sending a punch to his face, the Russian retaliated by taking out his gun and whacking Billy on the forehead with the butt of it. Then the barrel was aiming towards Steve.

Steve froze. Monsters… high school girls… test results… all of them he'd tackled. But having a gun pointed at him... What was he supposed to do? The only other time he could remember being threatened with a gun was when Nancy pointed one at him to get him to leave- but this was a bit different than Nancy _god damn_ Wheeler!

'_Bang bang bang on the door baby, knock a little louder_

_Bang bang on the door baby, bang bang!'_

The gun didn't go unnoticed by Billy who scrambled on the ground to send a hard kick to the man's leg, knocking off his balance and aim.

_BANG_

Steve jolted, curling in on himself impulsively and hearing his own heartbeat drum in his ears as the adrenaline kicked in. _Holy shit. _After establishing the bullet had missed, he let out a shaky breath and registered that Billy was once again overpowered, on the ground being beaten to a pulp. Without thinking twice he raced back into the action, making to strike the Russian again with the bat but he was more prepared this time, swirling around to catch the bat in both hands where it was safe to grip, yanking it away from Steve's pitiful hold and beginning to wrestle with him. Steve's hands fumbled to push away the gun that the Russian attempted to have positioned under Steve's chin.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. He's too young to die-OH GOD HE'S GOING TO DIE LISTENING TO LOVE SHACK-

Taking a page from Lukas' book he lifted his knee sharply, hitting his target and watching the man hunch in pain to shield his groin giving him the perfect opportunity to do something about the gun. Not having any spare hands, he bit down onto the man's hand, hearing him yell as the gun slipped out his fingers. If the Russian hadn't been angry before he was now, grabbing Steve and pushing him straight into the shrubbery, kicking him in the ribs twice which managed to knock all the wind from him. Barely having time to process that he was hauled up again and shoved against a tree, head hitting the bark hard enough to draw blood.

'_Love Shack, baby, Love Shack, Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (Love, baby, that's where it's at)'_

Then before he could protest two burly hands wrapped tightly around his throat, rough fingers pressing down. Eyes flying wide he realised he couldn't breathe, beginning to thrash wildly.

He was doing every bodily function he usually would to breath, but the air wouldn't go in, lungs feeling an awful lot like they were surrounded by metal bands. Next came the rising panic, a primal instinct to fight for the most significant survival necessity. But the man was stronger, larger, blocking his whole body with his to the point where he was quite certain he'd disappeared into the tree or been flattened into a pancake.

The man sported a set of yellow teeth that revealed themselves past a wry grin, watching Steve battle for his life like it was amusing.

That amusement was cut short. Something slammed down and split open the man's head, sending a spray of blood over Steve's face and essentially freeing him as the man stumbled back to collapse on to the ground. Steve gasped, choking up the air he'd been deprived of and sinking to the ground as well, own hands darting upwards to protect his neck like it was still under threat. He hated the human body. What kind of design flaw was it that the only airway was in the neck?

He was so caught up with catching his breath that he nearly missed the sight of Billy sending more strikes of the bat down onto the motionless man lying beneath him. The bat hit the head again. Hit the chest again. Hit the stomach again. It was like Billy was beating a dead fish that just jerked with every hit but didn't respond further than that.

"H-Hey-" he tried hoarsely, outstretching a hand towards Billy. "Stop."

'_Huggin an a-kissin'_

_Dancin' an a-lovin_

_At the Love Shack'_

Billy sent two more hits before finally dropping the bat and stumbling away from the body, sniffing and wiping his nose on one hand. Then silence flooded over the empty road, the music fading as the song ended from inside his car that had one door open still. It was lucky nobody really drove on this road unless you were one of the typically rich folks who lived up here, and none of them really came out this late.

"Piece of shit." Billy finally said, spitting on the body and wiping his face again.

"I-Is he-?" Steve stammered, wincing at his voice that wasn't cooperating anymore after the abuse his throat just received.

"Dead? Yeah, think so."

"Oh my god," Steve mumbled, shoving his face into his hands and feeling warm blood smear over his pasty skin. "_Oh my god_." He repeated a bit louder, drawing his hands away from his face the second they came into contact with the blood, disgust swelling in his system alongside shock-stricken horror.

Blinking was all he felt capable of doing. Some guy had just _died_ in front of him. Some guy had just come back from the dead in front of him. And Steve felt an awful lot like he was trapped between alive and dead. So, excuse the stutters in his brain while he pieces together how he's supposed to acceptably react to this.

"Hey, Harrington, you good?" Billy asked warily, eyeing Steve who was as still as a statue right now.

That was enough to kick him back into some of the right gears again and his head whipped towards Billy. "Am I _good?"_ He repeated heatedly, clambering onto shaky legs with help of the tree trunk for support. "Do not ask me if I am good right now. We need to- we need to go." He decided, forgetting about the blood once again and running his hand across this head and through his hair, effectively tainting his mousy brown locks crimson in the process. "You killed him. We-we have to- this is a crime scene! We have to-"

Billy's eyes simpered and he outstretched two hands like Steve was an animal about to bolt. "Whoa, easy tiger. You look like you just escaped a slasher. Why don't you sit down before you fall down?"

"Why don't you shut up and let me think." He retorted, still staring at the body. "Who is that?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? How can you not- oh forget it. I'm not staying here on the side of a road beside a dead body. Hard pass." He exclaimed, marching towards his car but being stopped by Billy's hand that pressed against his chest.

"Listen we can't just leave the body here, we need to take it so some poor prick doesn't stumble upon it tomorrow morning. Then there's going to be an investigation. So help me get it into the car." Billy said as calmly as possible.

"That is not going in my car." He said in one big rush, words tumbling over one another. "That's not going ten feet near my car. I don't care if there's an investigation. I'm not even sure you're real right now."

Billy pinched the brim of his nose. "Well I hate to break it to you princess but I'm about as real as you are, and that body _is_ going in the trunk whether you like it or not. We gotta cover our tracks."

"I didn't kill him, _you_ did. So, kind of sounds like a Hargrove kind of problem if I'm being honest. Plus, you can't wind up in jail for self-defense!"

"The bat coated in this bastards blood says otherwise! And I'm not talking about jail." Billy growled.

"I don't care what you're-"

Billy marched right over to him, grabbed his chin roughly to keep his head in place so he was forced to look him in the eye. "Listen Pretty Boy I've just been through hell and back so babying you isn't about to be added to the shitstorm that is tonight, now listen up 'cause here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna let me put the body in the trunk, go sit in the passenger's seat and hand me your keys. Next, we're going to go get a burger because I'm starving. Then we're gonna go bury that body in the woods somewhere. Because if we don't then that asshole's friends are gonna track me. So, does that sound fucking doable to you or are you going to throw a bitch fit?"

No, it really doesn't sound doable.

"Why can't we just… go to the cops?" Steve lightly protested.

"Listen I know we're not exactly peas and carrots you and I, but you just gotta trust me on this one alright? There's more of where he came from and I need to lay low. Just… help me get rid of the body?" Billy asked with the same pleading tone that almost had Steve opening the car door earlier. "I'll get out of your hair then."

"We're already right here in the woods! Can't you just- bury it here?" He whined, jerking his head away and rubbing his chin where Billy's fingers had dug too deep.

Billy deadpanned him. "Unless you've got shovels stashed away in that bling _bling_ BMW of yours then no."

They glared at each other for a further ten seconds before Steve finally caved, throwing his hand up in the air dramatically. "I'm not touching it. I am not giving you the keys because you're definitely not driving my car, and we are _not_ getting a burger first."

Billy's lips twitched suspiciously towards a smirk. "Deal."

* * *

Teeth gnawed at his lip aggressively until blood was drawn. Hastily his tongue flicked over his lips to get rid of it. They'd driven the rest of the way to his house and he'd slipped into the garage to retrieve two shovels, hoping his parents had gone to bed by now. It was about 11:30 according to his watch. Time flies when you've got a body to bury…

It would be rather difficult to explain why he's coated in blood right now and juggling two shovels if his parents saw him. So, he silently prayed they were asleep. It was the rarest occasion where his parents actually were home instead of away on business trips. Figures.

"Jesus, Harrington, you really are a princess living in that." Billy whistled as Steve ducked back into the car, struggling with manoeuvring the shovels onto the back seat and desperately trying not to look at Billy. "Look at it, an actual castle."

"It's not a castle," Steve muttered, exasperated.

"Sure looks like one."

"Well, it's not."

"A mansion then."

"Whatever you say."

Silence.

Oh, well now it's awkward gee great going, Steve. In his defence… he has every reason to be weirded out to the point where he's condemning them to awkwardness. He should be in bed right now or doing something horrifically sensible like tidying his room that was a tip currently. But nope. He's sat in his car, beside a resurrected Billy Hargrove, with a dead Russian in the trunk. Perfectly normal.

A small part of him wanted to fire about a million questions at Billy but he suppressed that urge. They had bigger fish to fry. All that mattered was hiding the body and then he could _attempt_ to focus on everything else. Besides, for the moment trying to elucidate everything just wasn't computing through his system properly. One problem at a time. Baby steps, Steve, baby steps.

Billy fixed the silence by fiddling with the radio, turning a few of the buttons until he found a good signal and settled back in his seat again. 'You Spin Me Right Round' Began playing which made Billy curl his lip up in distaste.

Steve gave Billy a glance of disapproval. "Seriously?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"What? Lighten up."

"There is a body in the back of my car and you're playing music?"

"Oh, come on, I've been in an underground bunker or whatever for like 24 hours. All I want is a burger, some decent tunes, and a bed." Billy grumbled, glaring at the radio.

"24 hours...?" He repeated with a frown. Where had Billy been for the last 3 _months_ then? 

"The hell is this crap anyway?" Billy asked, not picking up on Steve's confusion or just flat out ignoring it. 

"Why are you asking me? I don't run the radio do I." Steve snapped back, finding the tune not unpleasant but highly inappropriate given the circumstances. "I think it's a new release."

"Sounds like your kind of music."

"No, it doesn't."

'_I set my eyes on you (and no one else will do) and I, I've got to have my way now, baby-'_

"Yeah, not happening." Billy huffed, abruptly fiddling with the radio again and flicking through stations. The song 'Bonded by Blood' roared to life from his speakers which made Steve jolt in his car seat at the sudden noise, shooting Billy a quick glare before focusing on the road again as Billy turned down the volume a bit. "Alright!" Billy cheered, drumming the dashboard ecstatically in time to the beat. "Now this is a decent tune."

"This is painful." Steve retorted, wincing at the music.

"Ah, a man of little taste."

"A man who likes his eardrums."

* * *

The moderately light-hearted moment dissolved the second Steve turned off the ignition, hands flexing around the steering wheel a few times before he sharply nodded and got out the car. They could totally do this. Totally about to get away with this. This totally doesn't look damn more suspicious than just going to the cops.

Why is he going along with this again?

_Russians_.

Dustin was going to come for Steve's kneecaps after this…

"Alright, you grab the legs and I'll get the other end." Billy directed him, popping open the trunk. Quite frankly Billy looked ridiculous, still wearing the white hospital gown that was covered in dirt and flecks of blood. His hair was a mess. There were bags under his eyes bigger than Steve's hope for getting away with this. The tan Billy was always flexing had faded. And somehow, _some-FRICKEN- how_ he was making it work in a weird, annoying way.

He squirmed on the spot. "Damn it. Should have brought a wheelbarrow or something…" he grumbled, walking over to grab the corpse's legs, helping Billy haul it out the trunk and lay it down on the ground carefully.

"Yeah cause a fucking wheelbarrow was gonna fit in your Bimmer." Billy rolled his eyes.

"It's called sarcasm Hargrove." Steve retorted, slamming shut his trunk and going to get the shovels out from the back seats, locking the car after. They weren't on the main road anymore, Steve had decided to drive them to a trail sight that led into the woods where he and Nancy used to go when they wanted to steal sneaky kisses. It was out the way and nobody ever really came here, so there wasn't going to be anybody about to catch them at this time of night.

Probably.

"Oh wow, well my mistake I didn't realise sarcasm was within your range of capabilities," Billy said, lifting the body again from under the arms and dragging it backwards out of the small empty carpark and into the shrubbery.

"Oh, ha_ha_," Steve replied blankly, balancing the shovels over his shoulder and following Billy into the trees, a torch in one hand illuminating the way for them. He would help with the body but… it was kind of gross, he was kind of pissed off, and he was holding the shovels and the torch, so he already had a job.

For a while they just trudged in silence, the light bobbing with every footfall Steve made. Beyond the torchlight were the faintest outlines of trees and _so many shadows._ Steve hated it. But he wasn't about to look like a baby in front of Billy, so he sucked it up and carried on like a trooper. Besides Billy had the worse job, he was dragging a corpse backwards and trying not to trip over anything, while probably freezing in that stupid gown.

Okay… maybe Steve should have lent him some clothes. It was a miracle that Billy had shoes on… though they looked like they'd seen better days as well.

Oh well, too late now.

Steve was stuck following behind and staring into the cold, lifeless, open eyes of the corpse. The sight of it made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. This was just about the last place on the planet he wanted to be right now. In fact, if somebody had asked him to describe in great detail his worst possible scenario, this would be it down to the time of day. There was a bundle of thoughts swimming around in his mind.

Such as, what if they got caught?

What if somebody found the body?

Don't cops use sniffer dogs these days or something?

Would it be traced back to them?

How deep should they dig the hole?

Holy shit are they really gonna bury some random guy in the middle of the woods?!

"Get your head out the clouds, I think here's far enough," Billy said, dropping the corpse to the ground with a heavy thud that made Steve wince. They'd stopped where there was an opening between all the tightly clustered trees, a patch of dirt large enough where they could dig the grave. Steve stared at the spot with distaste. "Right, hand me one of those and start digging. It's probably gonna take a while and we don't exactly have all night."

"I'm gonna kill you after this, you know that right?" Steve said slowly, handing over a shovel.

Billy barked out a laugh, stabbing the earth with the shovel. "Yeah, well… apparently, I've been dead already and it didn't exactly stick so… Take your shot pretty boy."

Steve scoffed at the blonde, beginning to dig as well.

* * *

They dug for what felt like hours and hours, eventually developing a system where they took it in turns so the other could have a break considering they were both glistening with sweat in the torchlight. Neither of them really made conversation, a thick tension between them as they fought to get the deed done and dusted. The only noise came from the shovels slapping up the soil up to be dumped outside the hole with a gentle 'shhh' as it fell. The repetitive sound kept reminding them that they had to keep quiet about this which only heightened the moral injustice of the whole situation. But it was self-defense, right?

Around them, the foliage was thick and defensive. Arthritic boughs gnarled with age watched their work with judgment. Briars, brambles and berry trees flanked them making it impossible to see beyond and leaving to the imagination what things could be lurking in the night. Shuffling noises would come deep from beyond the shields of nature, muffled by the web of leaves and branches.

Every sound made Steve's eyes dart around the area warily, a serious debate taking place in his mind on whether this whole endeavour was actually worth it. Jail would be better than this, was what he decided when he was deep enough in the hole that the top was level with his forehead. Dirt would occasionally dribble back over the edges and make him jump at the sudden movement however trivial it might be.

At least he wasn't the only one on alert. Billy seemed genuinely worried as well even if he was trying his best to hide it. Every time Steve scanned the wall of darkness surrounding them, his peripheral vision would spy Billy quickly doing the same then pretending he'd been doing something else to cover it up.

It was currently Steve's turn digging and the hole was borderline finished. They'd learned that he was the most efficient in the situation since he was high on some kind of adrenaline frenzy so chucking out the soil at a turbo speed was entirely doable for him. There was a tiny voice at the back of his mind screaming at him how this was just making matters worse, but he drowned it out. All he could think was that they needed to get this done before anything else happened. No time to think about the coherence of it. No time to really speculate further on whether he was spiralling into insanity. Just keep digging, and digging. Get the body buried. Break down after.

Billy was exhausted from whatever he'd been through today, but trying his best, nonetheless. However, Steve kept saying he was taking too long with his digging and would impatiently take over.

Sue him, he was still mildly scared they were gonna get caught so they didn't have time for Billy to be slow.

"This is fun" Billy commented idly, leaning on his shovel.

Steve's head popped out the six-foot hole, hair caked in dirt. "Shut up. Don't talk to me. Don't even look at me. We're trying to hide a body right now what part of that is _fun_?"

"Permission to answer?"

"Denied."

"Overruled. It's fun cause it's with you pretty boy"

"_We're trying to hide a body Hargrove for crying out loud," _Steve exclaimed, throwing the shovel at the dirt and scrubbing his face with both hands in frustration.

Calm thoughts, Steve.

Calm thoughts.

Billy looked like a skyscraper towering over him as he stood by the edge of the hole looking down at him with a sort of smirk playing on his lips. Steve tried not to focus too much on the major height difference because he was stood in a makeshift grave right now which was _weird._ He was also trying very hard not to focus on Billy because _Billy was still wearing a hospital gown_ and if Steve stood at the wrong angle he'd be seeing parts of Billy he really didn't want to be seeing. So yeah, all kinds of inappropriateness going around tonight apparently. Though with the way Billy was standing it was almost like he was trying to get Steve to sneak a peek at the goods. Which was ridiculous. Why would he be doing that?

Then Billy chuckled and abandoned his shovel too. "Looks deep enough to me, I'm gonna lower shitbrains down to you, ok?"

"Oh god…" Steve huffed, hating his life more and more by the second. "This is officially the worst night of my life."

The sound of the corpse's heels scrapping along the dirt sounded as Billy dragged it over to the hole. "Aw come on, can't be that bad if I'm here."

"Oh no, that's why it's bad."

"Whoa-ho, when oh when did you get a backbone?" Billy hummed, stopping at the edge of the hole and gripping the body so it didn't just fall right in and crush Steve.

"When you were dead." He shot back without missing a beat, cringing suddenly at his sentence realising that Billy was grimacing down at him. Yeah, it was probably not the nicest thing to say. "Hey… sorry I…"

"Catch," Billy said, letting go of the body that Steve hadn't managed to get a proper hold of yet, letting it fall straight into the hole and become a tangle of limbs with Steve who stumbled back at the sudden weight addition, back hitting the dirt wall.

He let out an audible, "oomph!" in surprise, flailing when the face of the corpse was practically pressed against his own and letting out a number of undignified curses as he dropped it to the ground with little care for respect. Disgust curled his insides. "Oh my god, you asshole!" he yelled up at a laughing Billy.

"Your face Harrington! Priceless!" Billy hollered, doubling over and clutching his stomach.

"That wasn't funny!" He snapped, expression softening when he realised Billy was genuinely laughing right now. It was a foreign noise in Steve's ears and… it was kind of nice. It exposed how forced all of his other laughs were. Eventually, Steve had to huff out a small chuckle as well and rub his forehead. Even if he was pissed off, he didn't actually have it in him to stop Billy laughing. The dude did kind of have one hell of a summer… possession… death… hunted by Russians…. This could be the first time he's laughed in months.

"See that's where you're wrong, cause that, _that,_ was hilarious." Billy snorted, finally gathering himself into a straighter composure. Seeing Steve's unimpressed posture with his hands on his hips and raised eyebrows sent Billy tumbling into a fit of sniggers again.

"You did that on purpose." Steve accused.

"Not my fault you can't catch."

"It's a body, not a basketball."

"Yeah whatever, come on I'll help you out." He bent over to offer a hand which Steve promptly shoved away.

"I'm fine thanks." He dismissed without thinking, then realising that yeah, the hole was actually kind of deep now. His eyes scanned the wall of the hole searching for the best place to climb out without falling and embarrassing himself. Plus, if he fell he'd land on the corpse… gross.

Billy rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms, watching Steve scramble for a moment trying to get out, dirt crumbling under his trainers sending him skidding back to the bottom. It was a little bit comical to watch which only heightened Billy's smugness.

"You got it?"

"I'm fine," Steve lied breathlessly, desperately hauling himself up and praying to any gods in any religion willing to listen to help him get out without having to be assisted by Billy. Besides Billy would probably let go of his hand and let him fall just for shits and giggles.

By some miracle he wrestled with the god damn dirt and managed to get back out of the grave, collapsing on his back to let out a few pants. Billy hovered above him before shaking his head and setting to filling the grave back in. Steve didn't help for about five minutes.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't speak Russian so I'm sorry if the Russian parts in this aren't entirely accurate! To my understanding the translations are:  
'Ostav' i ya pozvolyu tebe zhit' means 'Leave and i will let you live'  
'YA tol'ko khochu yego' means 'I just want him'.
> 
> If these are wrong feel free to point it out for me! like I said I don't speak Russian but I tried my best with it!
> 
> Also, the songs mentioned in this are:  
'Mad World' by Tears For Fears  
'Love Shack' by The B-52's  
'You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)' by Dead or Alive  
'Bonded by Blood' by Exodus


End file.
